Redemption By Fate
by Duchess585
Summary: *Chapter 4 added* A Kel/Joren story in which Joren finds himself the prophetic hero on a quest.
1. Chapter 1 Palace Intrigue

**Author's Note: **I wrote this before reading the last two books of POTS, so events in those books have not taken place. Kel/Joren, rated PG-13 to R for language and sexual content. 

Disclaimer: Kel and the POTS series are the creative and legal property of Tamora Pierce. This story is my own. 

**Chapter 1 – Palace Intrigue**

            The chirping of the sparrows roused Kelandry of Mindelan from her sleep. Then she felt the warm sunlight on her cheek and heard the footsteps of her maid and the palace's seamstress, Lalasa, through the dressing room door. Kel turned over on her side and let out a sigh. She knew it would be another drowsy summer day in the palace. 'Another _boring_, drowsy summer day.'

            The dressing room door swung open and Lalasa came through bearing a cup of tea. "Will you be getting ready to leave now, milady?" she asked softly.

            Kel blinked at her for a moment. "Ready to leave?"

            "Yes, Lord Raoul wants to see you in the training yards today, remember? Before breakfast is served."

            Kel sat up abruptly and swung out of bed, narrowly avoiding stepping on Jump's already twice-broken tail. "Gods, I completely forgot! No, you can have it yourself," she said, waving away the offered cup of tea. "It's too hot, anyway. Lalasa, where did I put my belt? I could have sworn it was on this chair…"

            Lalasa sighed with exasperation as she watched her mistress fumble around the room, searching for the missing belt. "Milady," she said. When she got no reaction, she repeated the word louder. "_Milady_." Still nothing. "_Kel_!"

            Kel stopped and pivoted on her heel. "What?"

            Lalasa pointed towards the floor. The leather belt was held in Jump's teeth. He had obviously been following her around the room for a while now. "Oh," she said bashfully. "I'm sorry."

            The older girl smiled forgivingly. "Just hurry up before Lord Raoul becomes mad. You know how loud he can shout."

            Kel quickly dressed in her standard outfit of a loose tunic, shirt, and breeches, and then strapped the belt around her waist. It seemed like ever since she had turned fourteen, her waist had been getting smaller. The belt would soon run out of holes and she would have to make her own. 

            "Have fun today, don't stay out in the heat too long!" she called after her as she raced out her room. "And stay out of trouble!"

            Lalasa shut the door behind her then turned to regard Jump. "I wonder, was she talking about me or you?"

            Jump just gave her a canine grin.

*                       *                       *

            Kel raced through the halls until she reached the entrance to the training yards. The day was so humid that she could already feel a bead of sweat trickling down her neck. 'Maybe I'll go for a swim later. Anything to get rid of this stickiness.' 

            "Well, hello, Sir Kelandry," a clear voice boomed from a little behind her. "I'm glad you managed to fit some time in your hectic schedule to see me today."

            She turned around and saw her former knight-master, who had just returned to the palace after a trip to his home in Goldenlake. He was smiling sarcastically at her, but not unkindly. She bowed her head quickly before rushing into an explanation.

            "Lord Raoul, I'm sorry. I don't know what happened but I forgot about our meeting. I know this isn't an excuse, but…"

            He laughed and brushed away her apology. "Calm down, Kel, you're barely late at all. If you must know, I overslept and just got here a second before you." 

            "Oh."

            "Now, you have a choice. Do you want to practice sparring with me, or do you want to eat breakfast?"

            "You know I'd normally choose sparring, but because I care about your needs so much, we can eat first," she replied, her hazel eyes lighting up playfully.

            "An old man needs all the care he can get," Raoul answered. "And don't you forget it."

            They walked together to the second mess hall of the castle, the one that knights and royalty ate in. It was larger and more lavishly decorated than the simple mess hall the pages and squires frequented. She was grateful that knights could eat any time they chose, considering that she had been late to dine so many times in her training. 'But then again, it was fun to make those bullies wait for their meals.' 

            "So how does it feel, Kel?" Raoul asked her as they took trays and joined the line. 

            She peered at him. "That's a vague question."

            "How does it feel to be a knight?" he clarified. "After all these years."

            "You ask me that every time I see you," she said, laughing. "I feel the same as I did yesterday. And the day before that. As well as the day before _that_. To be honest, Raoul, I wish there was more to do than just languish about the royal palace." Ever since she had become a knight two months ago, she had been itching to hone her combat skills in a battle. 

            "You should be glad that Tortall is enjoying a brief peacetime right now. Believe me, after you've been in battles most of your waking moments, this languishing is heaven." Then Raoul grinned. "Of course, when I became a knight, I was a little antsy too." 

            "A little," Kel repeated, almost snorting. "Try a lot. I've heard stories about you, Lord Raoul, Knight Commander."

            They picked up a light breakfast, mostly fruits and cereals, and began walking through the rows of tables to find their customary seats near the far corner. 

            Kel half-listened to Raoul as he attempted to defend his reputation. Her attention was focused on a niggling feeling in the back of her mind. She felt like she was being examined. That in itself wasn't odd, considering she was the second lady knight in the history of Tortall, but there was something…different…about the gaze she felt on her. 

            Casually, she turned her head as she passed a couple of filled tables. An icy blue gaze met hers almost immediately. 'Joren.' He was sitting beside Yancen and across from Zahir, but unlike them he had no food in front of him. He wasn't talking either. He was simply sitting there. 'And staring at me.' 

            Not knowing what else to do, she glared subtly at him before turning her full attention to Raoul's bumbling excuses. She could have sworn that she heard a deep-throated chuckle behind her. 

            Joren of Stone Mountain smirked to himself as he watched the Lump sit down with her former knight-master. It always amused him to no end whenever he managed to get a reaction out of her. 

            When they were both pages, she usually responded with her fists. Later, she had learned to school her face into a blank mask, which always infuriated him (though he had never resorted to fistfights again). Since they had both become knights and resided at the royal palace, they were forced to see each other often. And he made it a personal goal of his to provoke her in some way whenever their paths crossed.

            Still, it wasn't often that she actually allowed herself to react to his provocations. 'The last time had been' -he counted the days in his head- 'a week and a half ago.' They had been alone in the stables, and she had been unaware that he was a few stalls down from her. She had been singing softly to her roan gelding when Joren had appeared out of the shadows and raised a blond eyebrow at her and her out-of-tune song. He still remembered the way her cheeks had colored brightly before the Yamani mask had fallen into place. 

            He laughed aloud again, ignoring the glances of Zahir and Yancen. 'Mindelan, the only source of entertainment I have in this Mithros-forsaken place.' 

            "What's so funny?" Zahir asked, looking around the mess hall curiously. 

            Joren waved his question away. "Nothing important. Just a fond memory of mine." He stood up and nodded to the two knights. Now that the Lump had appeared, he had no more reason to sit around the mess hall. "I'm off to see an acquaintance."

            "In your room, no doubt," Yancen grinned. Joren's reputation with the palace ladies was famous among the knights. 

            "It's no place of mine to keep a fair lady waiting," Joren answered smoothly, his clear blue eyes glinting. 

            He left the mess hall without sparing his friends or Mindelan another glance, but he heard the laughter of his friends following him. More intriguing, though, was the unmistakable feeling that someone else was watching him. 

*                       *                       *

            Kel's sword clashed against Raoul's, effectively parrying his attack. His dark eyes continued to stay focused on hers through the sheen of sweat dripping down his face. 

            "Been practicing," he bit out, his tone making it a statement and not a question.

            She allowed herself to give him a tight smile before abruptly going on the offensive. He was too experienced to stumble, but she saw the flash of surprise in his eyes. Ignoring the sweat that made her bangs stick to her forehead and the hot air that stifled her lungs when she breathed in, she relentlessly pushed him farther backwards. A corner of her mind acknowledged the crowd that had formed around them, but she refused to be distracted. 

            Raoul blocked several of her thrusts before she finally ducked, leaned in, and sprang up, knocking his sword away. She pressed the tip of her own weapon to his tunic collar, in the small indent of the base of his throat, the sound of the cheering (and some jeering) of the crowd filling her ears. 

            Just as quickly as she had disarmed him, she lowered her sword and bowed. 

            "Well deserved, Kel," he congratulated, giving her a friendly grin even though he had just been beaten by someone smaller and years younger than him. 

            "Like you said, I've been practicing," she replied, brushing her wet bangs away from her face and heading indoors to the relative coolness of the armory. Raoul, after retrieving his sword, followed her. 

            "I'm glad to see that you've finally brought your swordsmanship up to the level of your other skills," he said, laying his practice sword down on the rack next to hers. 

            "There wasn't much else to do these past months," Kel explained. "_I'm_ glad that you're finally back, so I have someone to challenge me." 

            "Next time we fight, I'll be a worthier opponent, I promise you that," he said, already looking forward to their next sparring. "But for now, it's too hot to fight twice in a row. I think I'll take a cold bath. I suggest you do the same, before this heat becomes too much, even for you, Sir Keladry." 

            She nodded, even though she had wanted to take Peachblossom for a quick trot. It was smarter to cool down, not push her body to the limits. "I'll meet you for supper?" 

            Raoul smiled. "Of course. You have to tell me all that's happened while I've been away."

            'Not much,' she said to herself, watching him leave. Still, she would be glad for his company later tonight. Eating alone was incredibly boring. Also, having another person around would hopefully discourage Joren from approaching her again. Two nights ago, the blonde knight had sat down across from her at her empty table and chatted about 'settling down' and 'becoming a proper lady.' She had ignored him, of course, but it had taken all of her willpower to quell her desire to dump her bowl of peas on his too-handsome head. 

            Then she paused, realizing what she had just thought. 'Too-handsome'? She frowned to herself, knowing that Joren _was _consideredhandsome to the general female population. 'That doesn't mean _I'll _admit it, though. I'm not one of those silly court ladies, always looking for romance and marriage.' 

            She strode back to the knights' quarters, passing a row a counsel rooms and offices. As she passed one door, she heard it open. 

            "Sir Keladry, is that you?"

            Kel turned around to see Sir Gareth poke his head out of the room. He looked frazzled, to say the least. "Sir Gareth?" she asked, approaching him. "Is something wrong?"

            "No, no," he said, staring at her curiously. "I just need you to do an errand for me, if that's all right. I know you're not a page anymore, but there's obviously no one else around and I'm extremely busy at the moment."

            She nodded. "What do you need?"

            He disappeared into the room and then reemerged with a rolled-up sheet of parchment paper in his hand. "Take this to Sir Joren, please," he said, handing it to her. "Unfortunately, I haven't the least idea of where he could be right now. You could try his rooms." 

            Sir Gareth smiled faintly at her before closing the door to the room. He didn't see her scowl at the paper lying in her palm. 

            'Wonderful.' She considered walking to the pages' wing and handing the responsibility to someone else, but then she admonished herself for even thinking of the idea. 'I have to stop acting like I'm scared of him.' It was just a simple errand, even if she had to see Joren again, and as soon as she gave him the paper she could work on avoiding him for the rest of the day. 

            Following Sir Gareth's suggestion, she went to look for him in his room. It was near the end of the narrow hallway filled with knights' rooms. Carefully composing her features into a calm façade, she knocked on the rough wooden door. There was no answer. After knocking louder, and still hearing no response, she decided to leave the paper in his room. Most knights left their doors unlocked, anyway, due to the code of honor they obeyed. 

            Kel pushed the door open and stepped inside, searching for a good place to leave the paper. There was a small wooden table next to the bed, but that wasn't what caught her eye. Instead, she found herself frozen in place, staring at the bed- and its two busy occupants. 

             Joren's naked back gleamed in the morning sunlight shining through the large window next to the bed. Seeing the shifting of his muscles under his skin made Kel feel a sort of warmth inside that had nothing to do with the weather. 

            "Oh, Sir Joren," a distinctly feminine voice gasped from under his strong body. She heard him answer with a short, harsh laugh. Then he moved, exposing the woman lying on the bed to Kel's astonished gaze. 

            Suddenly, Kel realized that the woman, a petite Lady she had seen a few times before who had an annoying habit of giggling too loudly, was completely naked from the waist up. And Joren was kissing her naked breasts. The heat flared inside Kel. 

            She must have unconsciously made a noise because Joren abruptly rolled off the woman and sprang to his feet, ready to encounter the intruder. His guest, meanwhile, had tugged the bedsheet up to cover herself, but not before she let out a loud gasp that wasn't nearly as passion-filled as the last one. 

             "Mindelan," Joren practically growled, his blue eyes colder than ever. Ignoring the fact that he was still shirtless, he stalked over to where she stood motionless beside the doorway. Her gaze took in his unbound white-blond hair and his threatening posture. Instinctively, she shifted her weight to the balls of her feet, ready to defend herself if he tried anything.

            He didn't swing at her though, and instead crossed his arms across his broad chest. "What are _you _doing here?" he demanded. She opened her mouth to level a retort at him, but none came out. She couldn't help but stand there, gaping up at him with her mouth hanging open. Rapidly, his expression changed and a wicked smirk stretched his lips. His eyes now were smoldering instead of icy. "I suggest that you get out. Unless, of course, you'd like to join us." 

            Her mind reeled at the thought. She felt her cheeks blushing furiously, but even her six years of Yamani warrior training couldn't repress her reaction. With no clever rejoinder, all she could do was throw the rolled-up paper at him and mutter "Shut up, Joren." Then she quickly fled to find the refuge of her own room. 

            Joren caught the paper deftly, still smirking. He heard Lady Orlia still panting hard, but couldn't tell if it was due to his earlier caresses or the more recent intrusion of that twit Mindelan. She was too foolish for words, really. He couldn't figure out if he was referring to Orlia or Mindelan. 'Both, actually.' Orlia for her empty-headedness, and the Lump for naively thinking he had really offered her to join them in bed. 'As if I'd want to sleep with someone with no curves and less personality.' 

            His mind remembered how the lady knight's lips had been parted in surprise as she had stared at him with those hazel eyes that were too trusting and too innocent for his tastes. 'That mouth, though…' Her lips were full and looked capable of more carnal things, but she usually kept them pressed together with stubbornness and determination that he both admired and scorned. Just thinking of her lips, relaxed for once, made his blood run faster, much to his chagrin. 

            "Joren, do you think she'll tell anyone?" Lady Orlia asked from behind the covers of his bed. Her voice was high with nervousness. "If my mother finds out, she'll-"

            "Relax," he interrupted, saying it for both of their benefits. "She won't say anything."

            "How do you know?" the Lady demanded. "You can't be sure."

            "If she tries to tell anyone, I'll stop her," he said simply, in a voice that allowed no further arguments. 

            He ignored her sulky pout and unrolled the parchment paper. 

                Your presence is requested in the throne room, immediately after the supper bell tonight.

            "What does it say?" Lady Orlia asked, always eager for something to pass along in her daily gossip. 

            "Nothing that would interest you," he answered, crumbling it up in his fist. He gathered his hair into a horse-tail and approached the bed. Orlia smiled eagerly at him and lowered the bedsheet, exposing her breasts to the warm air and his cool gaze. Joren ignored the action and reached across her to pick up his discarded shirt. 

            She stared at him in disbelief as he pulled his shirt on, effectively putting an end to their tryst. "What are you doing? Where are you going? I need you right now!" she cried in distress. 

            He paused in the middle of smoothing his clothes into a more presentable state. "Do you?" he murmured, leaning in to capture her lips in a kiss. He teased her with his tongue, until she was arching into his touch and moaning, and then stopped just as she reached for him. 

            "Unfortunately, I don't need you right now," he said, softly but brutally, and left his room. The closed door didn't manage to silence the high-pitched shriek coming from behind it. 

*                       *                       *

            Kel burst into her room, startling nothing but a couple of sparrows that were perched on the window ledge. Jump had apparently left to follow someone around for the day, and Lalasa was with her friend, Tian. She was grateful that no one was there to greet her, because she was too flustered to respond coherently. Her heart was beating so fast that it felt like she had just sparred with one of the Shang warriors. 

            "Damn Joren," she muttered to herself, locking the door behind her and heading to the dressing room to find the bath Lalasa had left for her, like she did every morning. 

            She would have given anything to never have to see his handsome, almost pretty face sneering at her in disdain again. For a while, she had thought he would be gone from her forever. After he had emerged from the Chamber of the Ordeal unconscious and nearly dead, everyone assumed that he would go back home to Stone Mountain and spend the rest of his life recovering from the experience. He didn't though. After a brief disappearance for half a year, during which nobody could find him, he had come back to Corus and managed to prove everyone wrong by entering the Chamber again. This time, he had walked out, a little paler than usual, but unharmed. According to the books Kel had found in the library documenting the history of the Knights of Tortall, it was the first time anyone had passed through the Chamber successfully on the second try. 

            That, along with his prowess in combat skills, had made him instantly recognizable among most of the population of Corus. What Kel had never realized until then, though, was that his looks alone had made him famous with women. She blushed again, remembering how she would sometimes hear snippets of conversation in the mess hall about Joren and his latest conquest. The conversations almost always detailed his 'gifted talent.' She almost wished that he had failed the Chamber the first time and never come back. 

            As Kel lay in the cold water, relieved that she was calming down, she had to admit that she was lying to herself. She wouldn't wish that sort of pain on anyone, not even her infuriating fellow knight. She had even been worried when, as a squire, she had seen Joren emerge from the doors of the Chamber in a stretcher. It had frightened her immensely to see him, usually so arrogant and challenging, almost lifeless. 

            Still, even if she was a tiny bit grateful that he was alive, that didn't mean she appreciated his lewd comments and smirking glances. She would make it a point to avoid him from now on. Besides, the only reason they seemed to be encountering each other a lot was that most of the other knights were gone this summer. Kel had stayed in Corus because her family was here, due to continued trade agreement talks between Tortall and Yamani. In two weeks, the summer season would be drawing to a close, ushering in the arrival of the knights and her friends. 

            'All I have to do is avoid Joren for two weeks. That can't be too hard.' 

            Unfortunately for her, the fates would inevitably intervene to prove her wrong.


	2. Chapter 2 A Prophecy To Be Fulfilled

**Chapter 2 – A Prophecy to Be Fulfilled**

            The supper bell rang, and Joren was already standing outside the throne room, waiting for his admittance to see King Jonathan and Queen Thayet. He couldn't help but be curious about their reason for 'requesting his presence.' Only mildly curious, of course. 

            A guard emerged from the ornate and polished wooden doors leading to the throne room and motioned Joren to follow him. 

            "Presenting Sir Joren of Stone Mountain," the guard announced before bowing low to the King and Queen and the raised dais and retreating to stand next to the doors. Joren felt a tingle of pride when he heard the title that validated all his years of struggling.

            "Please come forward, Sir Joren," King Jonathan said. There it was again, the same feeling of pride.

            "Your majesties," Joren greeted, giving both of the monarchs an elegant bow. When he stood up, he realized that Sir Gareth the Younger was standing to the king's right. 

            "Now, I'm sure you're wondering about the reason for calling you here," the king began, his sharp blue eyes studying the knight's appearance. "I have to say that I am curious myself. Sir Gareth has assured me that he can explain. Gareth, please begin." 

            Sir Gareth cleared his throat and took a step forward, so that the light from the nearest candelabra surrounded him. "As you know, I am often researching to assist the king. Today, while in one of the archive rooms, I found a tablet of scrolls that was of unmistakable importance. Written in the Old Language, it contained many prophecies, a quarter which have already been fulfilled. As I was reading through these prophecies, completely astonished, as you must understand, I came across a very specific description."

            Joren listened impatiently, still waiting for the reason Sir Gareth's old musty scrolls pertained to him. 

            "The description said very clearly, 'the one of ice who has passed from the darkness and into the light.'" Sir Gareth paused and looked at the king for a reaction. 

            "Interesting," King Jonathan said, stroking his neatly-trimmed beard. "But how does this certain prophecy involve Sir Joren? It is true that he barely passed the Chamber of the Ordeal the first time, and then was redeemed the second time, so the second part of the descriptions seems to hold. However, he is from Stone Mountain, not Ice Mountain."

            "Sire," Joren spoke up, needing to clear his suddenly tight throat first, "That is not entirely true." 

            The gazes of the three figures of authority suddenly turned to focus on him. 

            "Go on," the king prompted. Queen Thayet was sitting forward in her throne, eager to hear as well, and Sir Gareth looked satisfied.

            "Well, my father is from Stone Mountain, one of the direct descendants of the original lord, Lord Brackton. However, my _mother _is from the house of Friolte."

            "Friolte, otherwise known as the 'Ice Plains,'" Sir Gareth added unnecessarily.

            The king scowled. "I know that, Gareth. Continue, then. If the prophecy mentions Sir Joren, then he must be important in some way."

            "It became less specific about what exactly he is to do," Sir Gareth said almost apologetically. "From what I could translate, it has to do with magic and a quest."

            Joren rolled his eyes. 'That was helpful.' Not able to keep his comments to himself, he said, "With all due respect, Sir Gareth, that could be anything. And more importantly, how am I supposed to be involved with a quest and magic if I do not have the Gift myself?"

            "A valid question," Queen Thayet agreed.

            "Also, we are not at war right now," King Jonathan said. "Tortall is at peace, however brief it may be, and even the Carthakis, Copper Islanders, and Scanrans seemed to have turned inward to address their own problems. How crucial can this magical quest be?"

            "Your majesties, the current cessation of battle is more of a reason to support the quest than not. If Sir Joren's combat abilities are not needed in war, then he can be spared to fulfill the prophecy. And Sir Joren, it's true that you don't possess the Gift, but nowhere in the prophecy did it say that you should." Sir Gareth looked at his small audience. "Often, the consequences of a prophecy are so wide-spreading that we cannot begin to imagine them. Still, that is no reason to defy fate." 

            "But to just run off in order to fulfill some vague piece of writing-" King Jonathan began, his voice tinged with argument.

            "My king," Queen Thayet interrupted, her voice quiet but commanding. She laid a hand on the King's arm, and he turned so that she could whisper something in his ear. 

            Sir Gareth looked to the side, allowing the two to have their own private counsel. He had the feeling that the Queen was on his side. Joren, meanwhile, stood stiffly, not knowing what to think. On the one hand, he was eager to leave the boredom of the castle. On the other hand, he couldn't help but worry that this prophecy would not leave unscathed. 

            A moment later, King Jonathan turned back to address everyone in front of him. "It has been decided. Sir Joren, you must fulfill your duty as it has been written by the Gods."

            Sir Gareth, at hearing his ruler's command, couldn't help but smile happily. Joren, on the other hand, stared at what the king had just said. The suddenness of the decision shocked him.

            "Just like that?" he asked harshly. "I have no say in this matter?" For all he knew, he was going to run off to his death.

            "You are a knight, Sir Joren," the king answered. "It is your sworn oath to obey your king's command. Furthermore, even if I were to disagree with the prophecy, I could not. The Gods have already ordained your fate." 

            Biting his lip to keep back a retort, Joren bowed to his superiors. "As you wish. When do I leave on this _magical quest_?" he asked, anger clear in his words. 

            King Jonathan raised a brow at this insubordination, but decided not to call the knight on the offense. "As soon as possible."

            "And I leave alone?" 

            "Sir Gareth, did the prophecy say anything about companions?" King Jonathan asked, turning to his advisor. 

            Gareth hesitated, knowing that if Joren was upset now, he would be furious at what else the prophecy mentioned. 

            "Go on, we must know," the king prompted. 

            Joren knew that whatever Sir Gareth said, he wouldn't like it. That much was obvious from the older man's expression.

            "Well, it stated that 'the one of ice who has passed from the darkness and into the light' is to be accompanied by 'the woman who rides like a man with youth in her face and light in her hand.'"

            King Jonathan frowned. "Lady Alanna?"

            Joren was ready to stab himself with his dagger. "No, not Lady Alanna," he muttered angrily. "Mindelan." The Lump.

            "He's absolutely right, your majesty," Sir Gareth confirmed. "Of the two lady knights in Tortall, Keladry of Mindelan is the younger, and the prophecy explicitly says 'youth in her face.' Therefore, Sir Keladry is meant to protect Sir Joren on the quest."

            "We'll need to call her in, then," the king said, sighing. "I pray that this quest will not be a foolhardy adventure. Two of our best knights are at risk." He looked up at Joren, who was surprised to see the weariness in his king's eyes. "Sir Joren, you are excused. I will call for you soon."

            Joren bowed again. "Your majesties. Sir Gareth." Then he left, anger and anxiety warring in his heart. 

*                       *                       *

            The next morning, Kel awoke earlier than usual to make up for her lateness the day before. The sun hadn't risen yet, and the room was dark. She dressed quietly, careful not to wake Lalasa, and set out a dish of seeds for the sparrows next to the window ledge. Jump looked at her curiously before settling back down at the foot of the bed. Taking a small piece of parchment from her desk along with a charcoal pencil, she left the room.

            The halls were empty, and she didn't even pass any servants as she went to the curtain wall, her customary sketching spot. After she had finished sketching maps of the land in all directions and throughout the four different seasons, she was now working on the sketching the city itself. She had never before drawn it during the sunrise, though, and she was eager for the challenge. 

            She chose a good vantage point and put her pencil to the paper, waiting for the sunrise. Moments later…

            She stared at the glorious colors, unable to prevent a joyful smile from covering her face. It was a wonderful sight, to see Mithros bless the new day.

            "Indulging in ladylike pursuits?" a dry voice asked from behind her. 

            Her pencil left a stray mark as she turned around to regard her unexpected companion.

            "Lord Wyldon," she said, surprised. Then she blushed lightly, recalling his question. "No, sir, it's just been a hobby during the summer. I've had nothing else to do, besides training." 

            He nodded and stood beside her, staring over the city and its empty streets. "It's amazing, isn't it, how quiet Corus can be at the right time. Makes you feel almost peaceful." 

            "Yes, sir," Kel answered, unsure of what he wanted her to say.

            "Is it so different," he asked her without meeting her gaze, "being a knight now?"

            She shrugged. "No, my lord, not very. I still feel like I'm training and preparing for _something_…I just don't know what."

            "You'll find out soon enough," Wyldon replied. "Trust me, Sir Keladry. And when you find out, you'll hopefully feel better, not worse." He turned around to leave, pausing to put a strong hand on her shoulder. "You've always managed to defy my expectations. Mithros willing, you'll do it again." 

            "My lord?" she asked, confused, but he was already too far to hear her. She remembered then that Wyldon ran up and down the wall every morning to exercise his lungs. 

            After that meeting, she couldn't calm down enough to sketch well. She tried several more times to capture the sleeping city, but to no avail. The sun was bright and looming in the east when she finally gave up, ripping her last failed attempt to shreds. 

            "Now, now, there's no need for that," an unmistakable voice said.

            Kel spun around, remembering at the last minute to be as smooth and calm as an undisturbed lake. She would have to, considering that Joren had appeared soundlessly and looked like he was eager for a fight. 'Perfect. Absolutely wonderful.'

            "Acting the Lump again, I see," he said, his cold eyes glinting dangerously. 'Yes,' Kel told herself, 'he definitely wants a challenge.' 

            "What do you want, Joren?" she asked as levelly as possible.

            He stepped closer to her, intentionally invading her personal space and making her wary. "That's a loaded question. Shall we just say that I wanted to enjoy the beautiful sunrise?"

            "You missed it by several hours," Kel pointed out. 

            Joren stared at the sky, frowning as if the sun had played a cruel trick on him. "Hmm. So it seems, Mindelan." Ignoring her warning gaze, he took another step closer. 

            "What do you want?" she repeated, with more authority this time.

            He shook his blonde head at her, as if he were admonished her bluntness. "Mindelan, that's no way to talk to me. You should be nicer, considering that you interrupted my fun yesterday."

            Her cheeks colored at the memory. "You should lock your door if that's the kind of fun you like to have." 

            "The kind of fun?" he echoed. "What other kind of fun could there be? Besides, sometimes I wonder what you do behind your locked door with that pretty little maid of yours."

            She frowned at him, not understanding what he was implying. Why would she and Lalasa do anything when neither of them preferred women. "What does that mean?" 

            He stared at her for a moment, disbelief on his face when he realized that she was honestly confused. Then he laughed, a genuine laugh that made her shiver, but not unpleasantly. "Gods, Mindelan, you're completely clueless." 

            One step more, and he was suddenly standing toe to toe with her. "Too damn clueless."

            She tried to lean away from him, but she was already trapped against the edge of the wall. "And you've gone insane," she retorted, deciding to give him the fight he so sorely wanted. She had nothing else to do that day.

            "Maybe," he answered almost thoughtfully. "It's a possibility I've been considering." He leaned his face closer to hers, until his eyes dominated her field of vision. She became lost in them. They were so cold that she almost shivered again, but also beautiful to see. "You know, Lump, you should settle down. Tortall is peaceful. You can find a husband and start a family now."

            She glared at him, the Yamani mask dropping away, and swiftly pushed him away from her. "You've told me that before, and I didn't pay attention to you then. Why would I now?" 

            "Shut up," he snapped, giving her an answering push. "If you were smart, you'd find something else to do with your life. What have you accomplished as a knight? Nothing at all. You're not important to anyone, Lump, and you should remember that." 

            Kel knew her knighthood was important to at least one other person besides herself. The benefactor who sent her useful, very expensive gifts for Midwinter holidays and birthdays. 

            "Maybe you're talking about yourself, Joren," she began, letting the cruelest words be said. "You almost failed to become a knight. No one believed in you after that first time. And now, you aren't doing anything useful with the second chance the Gods granted you. You're a greater failure than me. At least I passed the Chamber the first time."

            His eyes narrowed dangerously, and she knew that she had pushed him too far. That realization didn't save her from his fist, which suddenly smashed into her left cheek. The sharp pain made her see a flash of light, but she ignored her temporary blindness and ducked low, punching him twice in his stomach. She heard a stifled groan.

            A strong hand grabbed her shoulder-length hair and yanked her painfully upright. "You asked for it, Mindelan," his low voice murmured in her ear, his breath warming her ear. She jerked her head to the side, cracking her skull with his. As soon as he let go of her hair, she grabbed his arm and twisted it so that it propelled his entire body past hers. 

            She rushed towards him but tripped on his quickly extended foot and ended up lying on the stone with Joren pinning her down. 

            "Get off," she bit out, struggling uselessly. He weighed more than her and had pinned her so effectively that she couldn't buck him off, not even with the special self-defense moves she had learned from the Yamanis. 

            "Not a chance, Lump." He stared at her face, which was now carefully blank again. "You were stupid. You can't just rush blindly at an opponent and expect to win. Why don't you go back and sketch your little pictures, and leave the combat to real knights." 

            He released her slowly, making sure she wouldn't try to attack him again, and stood up. "And next time think twice about pushing me."

            She glared at his retreating back, wanting to run after him and tackle him to the ground but knowing it would be stupid. After all these years, he was still the best at unarmed combat. This fact only infuriated her more. The contempt in his cold eyes, and scorn in his well-shaped face. It felt like she was still a page on probation.

*                       *                       *

            "You look like you're in a rotten mood," Raoul commented during lunch, looking across the table at Kel, who was frowning as she stabbed her carrots. 

            "I am," she replied, before putting the vegetables in her mouth and managing to even chew angrily.

            "Care to share why?"

            She shook her head. "It was stupid." And it partially was. She shouldn't have allowed Joren to provoke her into fighting like that. Still, the things he had told her… Even though she repeated to herself that they were simply lies, she couldn't help but hear them in her head, again and again. 'You're not important to anyone, Lump…leave the combat to real knights…'

            "Kel," Raoul said sharply. "What happened this morning?"

            "How do you know something happened then?" she asked, looking back down at her food.

            He motioned at the fresh bruise on her cheek. "It's looks new. Does it hurt?" 

            "No." It throbbed painfully.

            "Liar."

            "So what if I am? You're not my knight-master anymore. I don't have to tell you everything, Raoul."

            The Knight Commander sighed. "No, you don't. But I hoped that you would, on account of our friendship." 

            She cringed when she saw the soft hurt in his dark eyes. "I'm sorry. It just bothers me to talk about it. This morning I was on the curtain wall, sketching the sunrise and the city, and Joren came up to me."

            "What did that bastard do?" Raoul demanded. Even though Kel had never told him about Joren's bullying herself, the standard castle gossip had been enough. 

            She was ashamed to even admit it. "I let him provoke me, and I attacked him. He won." 

            "I don't blame you," he muttered. "Sometimes I'd like to thrash him like his mother never did."

            "Raoul?"

            He noticed her surprised expression. "What? Oh, loosen up, Kel. A knight is supposed to be honorable, of course, but even a priest would be hard-pressed to avoid fighting with Joren. He's just one of those types."

            "It's not right, though. How can someone like _him _be a knight? He failed the Chamber the first time. Why was he allowed to redeem himself? No one else in history has received a second chance."

            "Perhaps it doesn't seem right, but you're looking at it from the wrong perspective. We're simply mortals," Raoul explained. "Who are we to say what is right or fair? Joren must have some sort of purpose in the greater scheme of things, good or bad, for the Gods to have spared him."

            Kel nodded, knowing that he was right, as always. But she wanted a purpose, too. She needed some sort of validation that showed her she was on the right path. 

            Raoul turned his attention back to his lunch, letting her think. They both looked up when a servant stood next to their table. 

            "Sir Kelandry, the king requests you in the throne room immediately," he said. 

            She exchanged a quick glance with Raoul before cleaning her tray up and following the servant out of the mess hall. 

            "Do you know what this is about?" she asked him.

            He shook his head. "All I know is that it's important."

            They approached the throne room and the wide doors swung open before she even had a chance to compose herself. 

            "Presenting Sir Keladry of Mindelan," someone behind her announced before the doors closed with a thud.

            Kel stared at the sight before her. She wasn't alone for the audience with the king. Queen Thayet sat beside him to his left, and Sir Gareth stood on his right. What astonished her more was Joren, who was standing in front of the throne dais with his back towards her. 'What is he doing here?'

            She approached the dais herself and decided to bow, because she had no skirts with which to curtsey properly. 

            "Keladry, your assistance is required," King Jonathan said immediately when she came to stand beside Joren. He didn't miss how the blonde knight took a step away from her. Frowning, he continued. "Sir Gareth has found a tablet of prophecies, and you are apparently mentioned in one, along with Sir Joren."

            "What does it say, sire?" she asked, her face calm.

            The king nodded at Gareth, who stepped forward. "You are supposed to accompany Sir Joren on a quest to find and harness a new form of magic. The details of the quest are very vague, and all I can definitely say is that you, Sir Joren, and magic are involved."

            That explained the frown on Joren's face. He obviously didn't want someone like her involved. 'Well, too bad for him.' 

            "This will be dangerous, Keladry, if only because we don't know what will happen," King Jonathan explained. "The only reason I agreed to allow you two to leave is that we are enjoying peace right now. You need to understand that even if Tortall comes under attack and goes into battle, you and Sir Joren are to continue on your journey."

            "But sire, why?"

            "If you leave, you have already set the prophecy in motion. It is hazardous to try to change destiny," Queen Thayet explained. 

            Kel nodded. "I understand."

            "So will you be ready to depart soon?" the king asked both of the knights before them.

            They nodded. "I need to first write a few letters to my family and friends to explain my departure," Kel said. She ignored how Joren rolled his eyes at that. He obviously did not have anyone who would miss his absence.

            "Then write your letters with care," King Jonathan said. "Be ready to leave tomorrow morning." 

            They recognized that they had been dismissed, and left the throne room. Kel immediately headed towards the knights' quarters, and was disappointed when she realized that Joren was going the same way.

            She walked faster, determined to get away from him as quickly as possible. Just because the prophecy wanted them traveling together didn't mean she had to be near him right now. 

            "Scared?" he asked suddenly, his smooth voice startling her. 

            She stopped and swiveled around. "What?"

            "I asked if you're scared," he said again, walking towards her and closing the distance between them. For a moment she expected him to move into her personal space again, but he paused a few feet away. 

            "Of what?" 

            "Of what we're going to do," he clarified as if she were as stupid as an ogre. 

            She thought for a second before shaking her head. "No, I'm not scared. Maybe later I will be, but right now I'm more excited." 

            "That's why you're a fool," he told her, brushing past her to reach the door to the knights' quarters.

            "Wait," she demanded, catching up to him and grabbing his arm impulsively. He flicked a disdainful glance at her hand on his shirt and she immediately broke the contact. "Why is it foolish to look forward to having a role in a prophecy? It's better than sitting around the palace with nothing else to do."

            "How do you know what kind of role you have?" he asked in response. "For all we know, one of us could be meant to die on this magical quest. Maybe both of us. And I, for one, do not like being told what I am meant to be. I would rather make my own damn decisions instead of listening to a stupid piece of dusty paper." 

            He turned away from her before she could answer and pulled the door open. She looked at him, speechless, when he said before closing the door, "And Mindelan, make sure you don't bother me tonight. I have some letters of my own to write."


	3. Chapter 3 The Journey Begins

**Chapter 3 – The Journey Begins**

**Author's Notes: **Thank you to everyone who took time out of their days to review my story! You can't believe how much your comments encourage me. Remember to let me know what you think of this chapter!

            If it hadn't been for those cold eyes staring at her, Kel might have been able to convince herself that this was a normal morning. After all, the sun was beating down on her head with the typical late summer drowsiness, she could hear the pleasant chirping of sparrows, and Jump was running around the courtyard, looking for any sort of attention he could get. Kel watched the scene in front of her, sighing. 'Except…'

            Except it wasn't a normal morning in Corus, at least not for her and Joren. Today was the day that they began their "prophetic quest," as Sir Gareth had called it (or, according to Joren, the "magical journey of idiocy.") 

            Kel almost rolled her eyes when she remembered her fellow knight's snide remarks. He had been full of them lately. Nevertheless, she would not let him provoke her again. The next time he felt like fighting with someone, let him stumble upon an angry tauros. This time she allowed herself to grin at the mental image. 

            "What's your problem, Lump?" she immediately heard from beside her. "Buckling under the pressure already?"

            She ignored him and mounted Peachblossom. He scowled at her and was about to climb onto his own horse when Raoul emerged from the small crowd surrounding them.

            "Sir Joren, a word before you leave, if I might," he requested, but it came out more as a command.

            Joren clearly looked exasperated but he stepped towards the older knight without any protest.

            "I'll be waiting by the front gates," Kel called out to Joren, urging Peachblossom to a walk. She could tell that Raoul wanted to speak privately with Joren. Besides, she had already said her goodbyes earlier this morning. Suddenly she wheeled Peachblossom around as she remembered that her letters to her friends and family were still in her tunic pocket. 

            Raoul and Joren looked up at her as she came back into sight. "I need to leave my letters," she explained, holding them in her hand.

            Joren frowned but reached for the letters. "Just hurry up and go to the front gates. I'll take them in myself." 

            Kel was about to protest but he grabbed them out of her grip before she could pull away. 

            "Now go, before you delay us even more," he said before stalking back into the palace. 

            Kel looked at Raoul, who had a too-innocent look on his ruddy face. "What did you say to him?"

            "Kel, I didn't say anything! Just reminded him to be on guard during this journey." Then Raoul grinned widely. "I might have also threatened to carve him a new smile if anything happened to you, but I can't recall right now." 

            She smiled. Maybe that explained his slightly improved attitude. She could only hope that it would last.

*                       *                       *

            "I'm going to find more water," Joren snapped as he disappeared into the dense forest, dead branches breaking under his strides. 

            Kel watched him go, tempted beyond reason to tackle him from behind and show him exactly why she was one of the best knights of Tortall. Ever since they had left Corus, Joren had reverted to his usual unpleasant, taunting self, if not worse. 

            They knew where they were, but they couldn't figure out where they were supposed to go. The translated copy of the prophecy that Sir Gareth had given them was so vague that it did nothing but confuse them more. After riding towards the northeast for several hours, Joren had decided that they should stop at a small clearing in the forest and eat lunch. 

            She hadn't been hungry at all, but she was still glad that he insisted on stopping. Maybe they would finally receive some sort of sign that showed them the next phase of their journey. For what seemed like the thousandth time that day, she unfolded the prophecy and her map, trying to make sense of the words.

            '_Where the winter sun rises, the two shall entrust their steps._

_            Enter the domain of Mithros and be wary of lying traps.'_

            The lines were not helpful at all. Joren had determined that the place where the winter sun rose meant the northeast, but he hadn't been able to figure out what the domain of Mithros was. Of course Mithros was the god of war and the sun, but how could you go to the sky? And Kel and Joren were already on their guard against any possible enemies, so the lying traps part didn't do anything but make them even more paranoid. 

            She sighed and went to Peachblossom's saddle bag, carefully tucking away the frustrating prophecy and map and pulling out some meat and bread for lunch. She settled down near the side of the clearing, watching for danger even as she nibbled on her cold sandwich. 

            A cool breeze fluttered the hair at the nape of her neck, and Kel smiled softly, feeling refreshed. 'I don't care how frustrating Joren and this journey are. At least I'm finally doing something.' 

*                       *                       *

            Joren crouched next to a small stream, letting the water flow into his leather-covered jug. "Damn you, Mithros," he muttered. "If this was what you meant for me to do, I'd rather you let me die in the Chamber." 

            He glanced up at the sky, as if waiting for a response, but after receiving none he looked back down with a scowl. His mind drifted away from his surroundings, drifted to his memories of that cursed day he had stepped into the Chamber of the Ordeal. 

            _Joren pushed the heavy door closed behind him, waiting for something to happen. Nothing. Blackness. 'I don't see what the big deal-' _

_            There was a flash of light, but he couldn't tell if it was in front of him or inside his head. It was blinding, and he crouched over from the pain. After he recovered, he straightened, only to see an image in front of him, almost life-like. _

_            It was him as a child, crying as his father stood over him and shouted. 'Stop your tears, you coward. Men don't cry. Warriors don't cry. Are you a man, Joren, or a woman, a stupid beast? I always thought you were too pretty for a boy.' _

_            Joren closed his eyes, shutting the scene out. He still remembered what he had done. 'I'm a man,' he had said, learning how to hide his emotions even though he had only been seven years old. 'I'm a warrior.' _

_            And then more images came, more brutal memories. The beatings his father gave him in an effort to make his child stronger, the beatings he had given younger children in an effort to make himself stronger. The servant boy at Stone Mountain, the page he had fought in his first year, Merric, Owen, Mindelan. Except…these weren't mere images anymore. He was the one being attacked. Joren could feel each kick in the ribs, each punch across his cheek. And they hurt. Gods, they hurt him. _

_            'Stop!' he screamed out loud, the word echoing off the dark walls of the Chamber. 'Stop this!' _

_            Suddenly it stopped. Joren realized he was kneeling on the floor, gasping from the pain. He felt something wet obscure the vision in his right eye, and after touching it, he saw that it was blood. _

_            'Why?' he asked, his voice rough._

_            'You have been judged,' a voice said. It was strong, and warm, and it terrified him. _

_            'And?' _

_            Another voice answered him. This one was lighter, reminiscent of a wind swaying fields of wild grass. 'You are deemed unworthy.' _

_            Joren shook his head, struggling to rise to his feet. 'No. No, I won't accept that. I am worthy.' Clutching his ribs, knowing that several were broken, he gritted his teeth against his instinctive cry of pain and lurched to a standing position. 'I have fought too long and too hard to be killed in here. I won't let you do it.' _

_            A pause, as if the two voices were conferring between themselves. Apparently, no one had ever protested their judgment. _

_            'Does the pain not hurt?' the lighter voice asked. _

_            Joren spat blood out of his mouth. 'Not enough to stop me.' _

_            The first voice rumbled. Joren couldn't tell if that meant it was pleased or angry. 'Then, Joren of Stone Mountain, you shall truly be tested. If you survive this, you will leave Corus and become a true man. Then you will return here for us to determine if you deserve knighthood.' _

_            'Test me, then. I will pass.' _

_            He was knocked over onto his side, blows raining down on him again. He endured it for as long as he could before passing out. _

_            After he awakened and healed, he left Corus, just as he had been told. _

            Joren had never told anybody what had happened during those six months between the first and second visit to the Chamber. He didn't intend to, either. That was a secret between him and the gods. 

            Lifting his now brimming water sack from the stream, he capped it and walked back to the clearing, hoping that Mindelan had managed to stay out of trouble while he'd been gone.

            He saw her sitting against a tree near the horses, her eyes closed.

            "You won't be able to spot enemies with your eyes shut," he said, sneaking up beside her.

            Her eyes flared open and she narrowed her gaze at him. "I only shut them for a second. You just have unfortunate timing."

            "Or fortunate. What if a spidren had attacked you? You would be dead." 

            Kel realized the truth of his words but refused to acknowledge it. He was far too arrogant already. "Did you find water?" she asked, changing the subject.

            He nodded, crossing the short distance to his horse and tying the water sack on the saddle. 

            She stood up and followed him. "I made a sandwich for you," she said, offering him the food. 

            Joren looked at the sandwich almost suspiciously. Then he grabbed it and vaulted onto his horse, Arbor. "Let's go. Maybe we'll figure out just what we're supposed to be doing."

            Kel quickly mounted Peachblossom, telling him to gallop so that they could catch up to Joren. "Hmph. He could have at least said thank you," she muttered. Peachblossom snorted in agreement. 

*                       *                       *

            The sun was rapidly setting as they saw a village through the trees of the forest. 

            "Should we stop there?" Kel asked, turning to look at Joren's impassive face.

            He thought for a moment. "It's better than staying up all night keeping watch for immortals, I suppose. How much money do we have?" 

            "Enough. King Jonathan made sure of that." 

            He nodded. "All right."

            They dismounted at the open gates to the village. Joren frowned.

            "What it is?" Kel asked, noticing his expression. He frowned a lot, but this time he looked a little worried, too.

            "Shouldn't they close the gates during the night?" he asked softly. "A village this small can't defend itself from enemies and predators." 

            "They were probably going to do it soon. It's not nighttime yet."

            "Perhaps. You go find someplace for us to stay," he ordered, leaving the reins of his horse in her hand and walking away.

            "Where are you going?" she called out.

            "To figure out why there's no one outside," he replied. 

            His words made Kel realize that he was right; no one was outside, not even a stray dog. It was a tiny village, so maybe its people went to sleep early. 'But not _this _early.'

            There was a row of shops to her left, a large building immediately behind it, and several rows of houses on her right. Kel decided to go to the left; maybe there would be an inn. 

            She walked down the dirt path, too rustic to be called a street, tugging the reins of the two horses. All the shops seemed to be closed, judging by the darkness inside each one. 'Where _is _everyone?' 

            The end of the street curved back, leading to the large building she had seen earlier. Maybe this was the inn. As she neared it, she saw gratefully that there were at least lights on inside. She found a tree nearby and tied the horses to one of the low branches, then went to the building to ask for a place to stay. 

            Kel knocked on the rough wooden door and heard voices inside. The door swung open abruptly and she stared at an old man, his face craggy and weathered. 

            "What do you want?" he demanded, his voice as rough as his face.

            Her eyebrows drew together. What was wrong with this village? "I am Kelandry of Mindelan, a knight of Tortall," she said. "My fellow knight and I are searching for-" 

            "I don't see anyone else," the man interrupted. 

            "He'll be here in a moment," she explained. "Do you happen to have any spare-" 

            "Are you a healer?" he interrupted again.

            "What? No," she said, beginning to become exasperated. 

            "Is the other knight?"

            "No, he's not either. We do have some healing supplies, though."

            "Then for gods' sakes, go get them!" he almost shouted. "Can't you see we need help?" A cry came from inside the building and he rushed inside, leaving the door half open. 

            Something was definitely wrong here. Kel ran in after him, needing to know what was happening, why he was so frantic, why the village was so empty. 

            She stepped into a large hall. This building was probably the village's temple, school, and meeting place all in one. Tables were strewn across the hard-packed dirt ground, in no organized fashion she could discern. 

            "Goddess," she breathed, seeing what was on the tables. Bodies. Most of them were adults but she saw some children too. All were hurt. There was blood everywhere. She had never seen so much blood in her life, not even during the pirate invasion of the Yamani emperor's palace. 

            She turned around swiftly and raced back outside, straight into Joren.

            "What are you doing?" he snapped, grabbing her shoulders and steadying her. 

            "Getting our healing supplies," she snapped back. "They're dying inside." 

            "What?" he exclaimed. Pushing her out of the way, he ran inside. She ignored his shove and went to get the supplies herself. 

            When she returned, she saw that there was an expression of horror and nausea on his face. It mirrored her own. She stood next to him, not knowing what to do now that she had the healing supplies. Thankfully, she didn't have to know. The old man who had answered the door saw the two knights and rushed over to take the healing balm and bandages. 

            "What happened?" she asked, following him to one of the tables. She ruthlessly controlled her nausea at the sight of the blood seeping into the dirt. 

            "We were attacked," the man answered, efficiently wrapping a bandage around the unconscious patient's near-severed arm. 

            "What could cause this much damage?" Joren demanded. He reached over to hold the bandage in place as the old man pinned it securely. 

            "Damned immortals," he answered. "What else? Mostly spidrens," he went on, spitting at the name, "and a tauros or two."

            For the next several hours Kel and Joren worked with the unharmed villagers to do the best they could in helping the wounded. Even their added supplies weren't enough, though. There were too many people dying already. 

            Kel followed an elderly woman to the next table. A young woman, a few years younger than Kel, was lying on the table, her face tight with pain. 

            "Now, Lessal, you just be strong for me, all right?" the old woman said, motioning to Kel for the healing balm. "The knight is here to help you."

            Lessal nodded. Her eyes fixed on Kel. "A lady knight? The Lioness?" 

            Kel shook her head as she gave the balm to the old woman. "No, I am Kel." She saw how pale Lessal was, probably from the blood loss of her many cuts and gashes. None of them alone were fatal, but together… Kel could feel her throat tightening as she looked at the girl who was so young, her pain-filled eyes too innocent. 

            "Could you hold my hand, please, Kel?" Lessal asked, so quietly that Kel almost didn't hear her. 

            She tightened her hand on the younger girl's, feeling how weak it was. She looked at the old woman, who was smearing a tiny amount of balm on each cut. She opened her mouth, about to tell her that so little balm would do nothing, but then the old woman shook her head quickly. 

            Kel understood then. Lessal was going to die anyway. They didn't want to waste any of the healing balm. The old woman had put on enough to dull the pain, but nothing more. 

            She held Lessal's hand tighter, letting the hot tears fall from her eyes. She didn't care that she was breaking years of Yamani training. A life this young deserved to be properly mourned. 

            By sunrise, a little less than half of the wounded had died. Kel stumbled outside, needing to breathe fresh air and gather her thoughts. She walked to where Peachblossom and Arbor were calmly grazing where they had been tied, as if they didn't realize all the death that had happened during the night. 

            "Too much for you to take, Mindelan?" 

            She ignored the familiar taunting voice and stroked Peachblossom's long neck. 

            "I should have known. The first sign of trouble and the Lump is ready to give up."

            "Shut up, Joren," she bit out with her back still to him. "I don't need to explain myself to you." 

            "Why don't you just turn around and go back to the palace now, little girl? If you can't handle this, then I don't want you coming with me."

            Kel spun around, swinging at him with her fist. He was ready for her and quickly ducked, catching her arm in his grip. 

            "You think you're so much better than the rest of us," she said, trying to pull her arm of out his grasp. "Is this just another regular day for you, Joren? People are dying, and we can't do anything about it. I'm sorry that I can't handle it as well as you. Maybe you enjoy seeing other people suffer, and that's why you're so calm. I can't stand the sight of it, though. Because I'm actually _human_, and you're a monster." 

            He yanked her arm, and suddenly she was inches away from his face, staring into his fierce blue eyes. "You don't know what you're saying, Mindelan. You don't know anything about me." He released her roughly and stalked back inside the building. 

*                       *                       *

            "Thank you again for your help, noble knights," the old man, Keneran, said. He had turned out to be the governor of the village, a place called Oakpost that wasn't drawn on their map. 

            After helping clean the building as best they could, Kel and Joren had determined that it was time to continue on their journey. They had promised to send word about the immortals attack to Corus as soon as they found a town with a telegram service. Keneran had given them bags full of food and wine as well as warm blankets for the horses to make up for the used-up healing supplies. It quickly became colder up north, he had explained.

            "Remember to keep the gates closed," Joren answered. "Don't let anyone out of the town anymore."

            Keneran nodded. "We will protect what we have left, Sir Joren."

            They rode off together in silence. Joren was being his usual hostile self, while Kel refused to be the first to say something. Let him dwell on their last argument. 

            The sun was shining directly overhead when Joren flicked a quick glance at Kel. "Check the map," he ordered. 

            She glared at him but complied. "We're about two hours away from the next town. Baldurel." 

            He nodded and turned his attention back to the path. 

            "Will we stop for lunch?" she asked, still glaring at his back. 

            "No," he answered shortly. "I don't know if there are more immortals roaming these forests. We'll eat as we ride." 

            They approached Baldurel just as Joren was ready to fall off Arbor out of sheer exhaustion. He'd be damned if he admitted his weariness though. Especially to Mindelan. 

            "Let's stop here for today," he decided. "It looks like it's big enough to have a telegram service." 

            "I'll go look for it," she offered quickly, dismounting and pulling Peachblossom behind her. 

            He turned in the other direction to find an inexpensive but serviceable inn. Hopefully one with a tavern. He found one easily enough. After brushing Arbor down and leaving him in the stable, he immediately headed to the tavern. Even though it was mid-afternoon, the tavern was already crowded. 

            Joren found an empty table in the corner and he sank as nobly as he could into the chair facing the door. He lifted his hand, motioning for a drink. Let Mindelan find the inn on her own. After she had called him a monster, one who enjoyed the pain of others, he wasn't feeling too charitable towards her. 

            He couldn't even determine why her accusation had made him so mad. He had been called much worse in his lifetime. Maybe it was because the accusation came from her, the one person who managed to rouse his temper by simply appearing in his line of sight. 

            He could feel the curious glances of the other patrons on him. Apparently they had never seen someone as wealthy- and noble-looking in their tavern before. 

            A serving wench brought his drink over, giving him an inviting look. He let his gaze run over her, evaluating her. She was too crass for his tastes, with her chest almost falling out of her bodice. Still, it would probably be a while before Mindelan managed to find the inn. He might as well enjoy himself until then. 

            Gulping down his drink quickly, he pulled her upstairs to his room. 

*                       *                       *

            Kel peeked into the stable of the third inn she passed. She spotted Arbor standing placidly in one of the stalls and felt like running over and kissing the dark brown horse. After sending the telegram to Corus she had realized that Baldurel was much larger than Oakpost, and therefore had many more inns. And Joren had not told her which inn he would go to. She had resigned herself to searching each inn's stable and looking for Arbor, but luckily Joren had not ventured far into the town and had stopped at the Laughing Minstrel.

            She nodded to the young stableboy who was dozing in the corner and let Peachblossom into the stall next to Arbor. After retrieving her saddlebags and food, she ignored the door leading to the tavern and went inside the main entrance to find Joren. 

            A stout man, who she assumed to be the innkeeper, stared at her when she entered. "Did a man, a few inches taller than me and with shoulder-length white-blond hair come here?" 

            He nodded. "Aye, 'n he said he was expectin' a lady."

            "That would be me." 

            The innkeeper nodded again. "He's upstairs. The room at the end o' the hall, on the left." 

            Kel trudged up the narrow stairs, eager to take a cool bath and rest. She hadn't slept since the night before she left Corus. Her mood darkened as she recalled why there had been no sleep last night. 

            She turned the doorknob but it was locked. "Joren, it's me," she called, knocking on the door. 

            Joren frowned in the darkness. Mindelan had found the inn sooner than he had expected. He almost wished the serving wench was still with him now, if only because it would offend Mindelan amusingly. Regretfully, he had already sent her away. Her breath had reeked of day-old meat and she hadn't bathed in at least a week. 

            He rose from the bed and unlocked the door. "Took you long enough," he said by way of greeting. 

            "Clever," she muttered, dumping the saddlebags on the only chair in the room. "You better leave. I need to take a bath." 

            "I'm not leaving," he replied, lying back down on the bed. "You can ignore my presence, can't you?" 

            She turned to stare at him. "You're not going to leave?"

            "No. I'm tired."

            "Fine. Where did you put the money? I'll rent another room."

            He laughed, which annoyed her insufferably. "I already tried that. This was the only available room." 

            "What? Why did you choose this inn if it only had one room left?" she demanded, her usually calm demeanor quickly fading.

            "Because this inn is safer than most of the others in this town."

            "We're knights. We can handle trouble." 

            "Go find another inn, then," he replied blithely. "You can stay up all night guarding your possessions and your horse, while I enjoy my rest."

            Kel sighed, knowing as well as he that she wasn't going to do that. "Can't you at least turn around while I bathe?" 

            He didn't answer immediately, which made her blush. At least the curtains by the window had been drawn, so that the darkness in the room hid her color. 

            "You don't want me watching?" he asked smoothly. 

            "No!" she exclaimed quickly. She could hear him laughing again. 'As serene as a lake, Kel.' "Of course I don't want you watching. Will you turn around or not?" 

            "Don't worry, Mindelan, I wouldn't want to watch you anyway. It'd be like looking at a boy." 

            She left the room to call for a bath basin and water to be brought up, clenching her teeth in an effort to ignore his immature comment. 

            Joren grinned to himself after she closed the door. It was getting easier and easier to provoke her. He had finally discovered the key: either insult her femininity or flirt with her. It was almost _too _easy now. 

            He walked to the saddlebags and took enough food to make himself an early supper. Then he searched through her bags until he found the map and copy of the prophecy. 

            When Kel returned, he was settled in the chair facing the corner, with an apple in his right hand and the prophecy in the his left. She was grateful that she wouldn't have to argue with him again while she took her bath. She stepped into the basin, her back towards him.

            Joren listened to the soft sounds of the water splashing, trying to keep his mind from picturing Mindelan naked. She was the Lump, after all. Practically sexless. She couldn't decide if she wanted to be a woman or a man. Before he could stop himself, he turned around and took a quick glance at her. Then he whipped back around to face the corner again. 'Definitely a woman. Damn it.' He bit into the apple and tried to concentrate on the frustratingly vague prophecy.

            "I'm done," Kel announced. 

            "Good," he muttered. He tossed the remains of the apple onto a tray near the door for a servant to take away. 

            She saw the paper in his hands. "Well, where are we going tomorrow?"

            He shrugged. "We'll just continue northeast. The directions on this are worthless." 

            "For once we agree," she murmured to herself, although he heard her. "I'll go check the horses." 

            By the time she had come back from feeding and grooming Peachblossom and Aubur, the water basin was gone. Joren was lying on the bed, his back to her. It was then that she realized there was only one bed in the room, one _small _bed, and Joren had already claimed it. She slammed the door behind her, but Joren didn't even stir. 

            'I hate him,' Kel thought to herself. 'I hate him, I hate him, I hate-' She tripped on his boots and was ready to scream. She didn't, though. She refused to give him the satisfaction.

            When she drew near enough to the bed she saw that Joren had thrown most of the covers and a pillow on the floor, presumably for her. She sighed. At least she didn't have to wrestle them away from him. 

            After a few minutes of trying to arrange the sheets into a comfortable bed, she gave up and simply collapsed. Her muscles were exhausted, and her eyes were watery from not being able to rest properly. Her stubborn mind, though, was still active, brimming over with questions.

            "Joren," she said softly. 

            She heard him grumble something as the bed creaked. "What?" he demanded in a clipped tone.

            "Do you think Oakpost had anything to do with the prophecy?" 

            "I don't know," he said quickly, giving her the impression that he had already thought of that possibility himself. "It didn't say anything." 

            "But it's possible, isn't it?"

            "I suppose it is. Why?" he questioned.

            "Sir Gareth said this is a magical journey. And immortals are closely related to magic. Maybe the journey has something to do with them." 

            Joren didn't answer her this time, and Kel took his silence to mean that the discussion was over. She sighed again and buried her face against the pillow that smelled surprisingly clean. "Good night," she said, almost to herself because she didn't expect him to answer.

            A pause from the bed, and then Joren replied with his own mumbled "Good night." 

*                       *                       *

            "King Jonathan, there is something I must show you."

            The king looked up, his usually brilliant cobalt eyes weary. "Yes, what is it, Sir Gareth? Something to do with the increased immortal attacks?"

            Sir Gareth shook his head. "No, unfortunately, I have discovered nothing new about that. But this, this is something incredible." He stepped closer to the king and held up a yellowed and delicate-looking piece of parchment. 

            "What is this?" asked King Jonathan, peering at the writing. "This is in the Old Language."

            "Yes, but look carefully," Sir Gareth urged. 

            The two men watched in surprise as more words appeared under the lines that had already been written. The king was astounded. "It's…"

            "Yes, it's writing more as Joren and Kel fulfill more of the prophecy!" Sir Gareth exclaimed, almost beside himself. "This is amazing. I've never heard anything like it."

            "What does it say?" the kind demanded.

            "What? Oh yes." Sir Gareth read it slowly, after the words stopped appearing. "Let's see. Roughly translated, it says that the aid of the two saved a village and drew the attention of a growing evil." 

            "What growing evil? It's too vague," King Jonathan complained. 

            "Rest easy, King Jonathan," Sir Gareth reassured him. "After a day or two, I'm sure that more will be added as Joren and Kel continue on their quest." 

            King Jonathan shook his head. 'A growing evil…' How could he rest easy when the lives of two of his best knights and the fate of his kingdom was being threatened by a growing evil? It was impossible. 

            'May the Goddess and Mithros protect them,' he prayed silently.


	4. Chapter 4 Ogres Everywhere

**Chapter 4 – Ogres Everywhere**

            It had been several days since they had seen any towns. With each uneventful day, Kel was becoming more and more uneasy. Something was wrong. There should have been more immortals around. At the very least, she and Joren should have passed a spidren web already, considering they had traipsed through so much of the forest. 'And with that attack on Oakpost, there should be more immortals in this region. It doesn't make sense.' 

            Joren, riding several feet ahead, was studying the map intensely. She narrowed her eyes at him, hoping he was getting as worried as she was. He was the one who had insisted on riding in this direction, even when she had suggested turning back.

            "Let's stop here," he said abruptly, pulling Arbor to a stop. 

            "Why?" she asked sweetly. "It's not even time to eat." She gasped exaggeratedly. "Do you think we're lost, Joren?"  

            He dismounted and shook his head, ignoring her tone. "No, we're not lost. I've been here before." 

            She looked at him questioningly. "Then why are we stopping?"

            "Because it's different. I don't know exactly how, but something is different," he murmured, more to himself than to Kel. He stared at their surroundings, looked back at the map, and then studied the forest again. 

            Suddenly he turned and walked to the edge of the path. After a moment's hesitation, he plunged through the dense growth of bushes and trees. 

            "Where are you going?" Kel called after him, dismounting also. He didn't answer. "Oh no you don't, not without me," she muttered, drawing her sword and going in after him. 

            She quickly caught up with him. 

            "Quiet," he hissed at her, even though she hadn't made any noise. He pointed through the foliage. Kel's gaze followed his finger, but she couldn't see anything moving. 

            A twig snapped. 

            She readied herself for an attack, raising her sword higher. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Joren do the same. 

            The leaves rustled, and a tall creature stepped out from behind a thick tree. It was hideous. A muscular, heavy face set in a terrifying expression with a brawny body that was hunched over. Its blue-green skin looked mottled.

            Kel stared at it, immediately remembering her lessons of immortals from her page years. 'An ogre…' She had never seen one before, but there was no doubt in her mind. 

            It stared straight at them, its black eyes glowing feverishly. 

            "Get ready," Joren said to her tersely.

            "I am," Kel answered in the same tone. 

            Another second passed, and then it roared, interrupting the tense silence, and charged at the two knights. She could see it shifting its glance from Joren to herself, before deciding to attack the smaller opponent.

            Its only weapon was a rough-looking axe, and Kel swiftly ducked under the first swing. She rolled under it then kicked the instep of its right leg. Instead of falling like she had anticipated, though, the ogre spun around and lunged at her. 

            "Move!" she heard Joren yelling at her. 

            'What do you think I'm trying to do,' Kel thought grimly to herself, rolling from the creature's attack again and managing to regain her footing. 

            The ogre's axe was stuck in the ground from the force behind the swing. She kicked its legs harder this time, and watched with satisfaction when it toppled over. As soon as it hit the ground she rushed at it and drove her sword through the area she guessed its heart would be. 

            It gave another roar, but this one was a death cry. Soon it had closed its soulless eyes and was slumped against her sword and the grass. 

            Joren's footsteps sounded behind her. "Impressive," he said, his voice seeming too quiet after the ogre's roar. 

            She tried to push the dead body off her weapon. "And where were you while I was being attacked?" Finally she gained leverage, and the body rolled away, allowing her to pull her sword out. 

            Joren studied her, his blue eyes guarded. "I was watching you."

            She glared at him. "Why?"

            "It chose to attack you. I wanted to see how you would respond," he answered, as if her questions were boring him. 

            Kel quickly wiped her sword clean on the grass and slid it back into the scabbard. Then she rose to her full height and approached him challengingly. "And did I pass your test, Joren?"

            "You killed it."

            "I did." She brushed past him and headed back to where Peachblossom and Arbor were left waiting. He heard her mumble something under her breath.

            "What did you just say?" he asked, turning his gaze on her. 

            She pulled herself onto the saddle gracefully before looking down at him, meeting his cold blue eyes with her own angry hazel ones. "I said that I did kill the ogre, but it was too easy. It barely put up a fight. If you're hoping to get rid of me, you'll have to do better than abandon me in a fight." 

            A furious light leaped into his eyes but she rode off ahead of him before he could defend himself. He was left with nothing to do but mount Arbor and gallop after her before she could disappear from sight. 

*                       *                       *

            Joren glared at Kel across the campfire, still seething from what had happened earlier that day. She had practically accused him of trying to get her killed. What he had told her was the truth. He had sensed that the forest was too quiet, that there must have been something nearby, and he followed that instinct. When the ogre had attacked, running straight for Kel, he stood out of the way, wanting to gauge her abilities. Still, if he had thought that she was going to lose, he would have stepped in and killed the ogre himself. 

            'Gods, I hate Mindelan, but I'm not trying to _kill _her.' 

            Maybe he wanted to injure her, make her shut up for once, but he was a knight now. He couldn't kill another knight, no matter how much he wished it. 

            Besides, he was alive now for one reason only, and he knew that if he killed the Lump, he would be dead himself. His own death didn't interest him right then. 

            As he shifted his gaze from Mindelan to the softly crackling fire, he remembered the reason his blood still flowed and his eyes still had sight. It had been revealed to him when he had entered the Chamber again, six months after he had left Corus. 

            _'Back again?' the powerful voice asked, the one that echoed in his head every day. _

_            Joren knew he couldn't answer out loud, or he would immediately be deemed unworthy again. He wouldn't let the Ordeal beat him that way, not on a stupid technicality. Bracing himself for what would come out of the darkness, he remained silent. _

_            'Perhaps this was not such a lost cause after all,' the second, gentler but still terrifying voice said. _

_            Without any warning, his mind was overwhelmed with images. They weren't like last time. Instead of being violent and shameful, they were virtuous and peaceful. He didn't know how to react; he had never experienced peace before. _

_            A gentle mother kissing his blonde head. A proud father clapping him on the back with good humor. He saw himself playing with other children instead of bullying them. Then he was at the palace, during his page years. He was surrounded by kind friends who looked upon him as an equal, not as a sort of commander. They didn't fawn over him and fear his anger; they joked and talked with him. Next he was on a battlefield, surrounded by immortals. Then the immortals were gone, and he was with a woman, in a bedroom. His arms were wrapped around her soft body, and in his heart he felt warmth and passion and another feeling that was unknown to him. It hurt and soothed him at the same time. _

_            Joren started to immerse himself in the images, but they abruptly disappeared. He was alone in the Chamber again._

_            'It's hard for you, isn't it, Joren?' the lighter voice asked. 'To know that you were destined for a life like that.'_

_            He was shocked. Destined? It hadn't happened. _

_            'Of course, destiny can change,' it continued, as if the speaker had heard his thoughts. 'You've made horrible decisions in your life, though it's true that they were not all your fault. Your mother was not supposed to have passed away so soon, and your father was supposed to have been a stronger man. Still, many of those decisions came from your own mind and heart._

_            'The hurt and hatred inside you made you stronger than anyone expected. The mortal realm needs someone strong to fight in the coming battle, but not someone crippled with rage. That is why you have been allowed this second chance. That is why you were sent away, so you could be tested in your travels. You had to prove yourself worthy of your proper fate.'_

_            Had he proven himself? He needed to know. '_'Did I prove myself?'_ he wanted to scream. But of course he couldn't. _

_            'Leave, Joren of Stone Mountain,' the first voice commanded. It made his muscles tremble. 'You have passed your Ordeal. You are worthy.'_

            And so he had left, and when he emerged from the Chamber still shaken from what he had learned, the only outward sign of it was the lack of color in his face. While his former knight-master embraced him and his cronies congratulated him, he had been repeating the words over and over. 'You are worthy. You are worthy.' 

            Joren was pulled out of his reminiscing when Kel's voice abruptly broke the silence around the campfire. 

            "I'll take the first watch," she announced, standing up and brushing the dirt off her breeches. 

            "I'll do it," he argued, also getting up. 

            Kel glared at him. Did he not trust her to handle the simple task of staying awake? "I volunteered," she said, her voice sharp. 

            His cold assessing gaze focused on her for a tense moment. "Fine," he answered, turning his back on her and closing the issue. "Wake me up in two hours." 

            She continued to glare at him as he unrolled his bedroll beside the fire and slid inside, oblivious to her. Then she caught her temper firmly and told herself to ignore him. She never enjoyed arguing and she wouldn't let him change that. 

            Grabbing her spyglass from a saddlebag, she left the small camp in search of a good vantage point. 

            'Stupid Joren,' she thought as she climbed up a sturdy branch about twenty yards from the clearing. Why did she always get so infuriated whenever he spoke? Sometimes he didn't even need to say anything; the look on his face was enough. Of course, while she saw a smug, condescending face, every other person they came across considered it handsome and noble. He had been able to sweet talk his way out of paying for his ale when they were in Baldurel. The people they passed in the street had given him awed and admiring glances, especially the women. 

            She could have screamed at the memory. Was she the only one who wasn't blind? 

            Kel spent the next hour ruminating over every single one of Joren's features, trying to figure out what was so appealing. He had beautiful eyes, true, but they were always so distant and unfeeling. And she had to admit that his features were arranged very appealingly, but he was always looking down his straight nose at other people and sneering with those well-carved lips. 

            She brought the spyglass to her eye, routinely scanning the area. Nothing interesting, again. Then she sat up, alert, focusing on movement to her east. There were ten men winding their way through the trees, approaching her position and the campfire lying behind her. Kel frowned as she noticed their odd, lumbering gait that seemed so familiar.

            Finally it dawned on her. They weren't men, they were ogres. And they were armed. She hastily shoved the spyglass into the waistband of her breeches and scrambled down the tree. The ogres were almost upon her. 

            Pushing aside her panic, she raced back to the clearing without making a sound. Joren was still lying on his side, asleep, but the horses were nervous, sensing that something was nearby. 

            "Joren!" she whispered urgently, shaking him awake. "Get up. I saw some ogres and they're coming in this direction."

            He was instantly alert, reaching for his sword that lay beside the bedroll. "Where from?" he asked in his own whisper. She pointed and he nodded. "Get your bow and arrow and climb up that tree over there. I'll hide the horses. Hold them off until I come back." 

            Kel reviewed his plan and gave him an assenting nod. "I suppose that will work." 

            She slung her bow and quiver over her shoulder and began climbing the indicated tree as Joren quickly untied the horses and led them away as quietly as he could in the opposite direction. 

            Seconds later, the ogres burst into the clearing. She was ready for them. An arrow hit the first ogre in its right eye, and another impaled itself in the throat of the ogre behind it. Ignoring their roars of pain, she carefully aimed a third time. By the time Joren entered the clearing, his sword ready in his right hand and a lethal dagger held in his left, there were only five ogres that were able to fight. 

            He rushed toward the group and immediately stabbed the closest one through the heart. Another ogre stood over him as he pulled the sword out, and Kel swiftly shot it with her arrow. 

            The remaining four ogres surrounded Joren, ready to take their anger out on the only enemy they could see. 

            "Mindelan!" Joren shouted as their broad backs hid him from her view. 

            She let loose one more arrow, injuring an ogre but not enough. It continued to attack Joren. She muttered a quick prayer before leaving her perch and entering the fray. 

            The injured ogre turned as she approached and swung its heavy axe at her head. She jumped out of the way and led it towards her, away from Joren. In a few minutes she had killed it, aided by its injury and slowness.

            Kel turned back and saw that Joren had managed to kill one of his ogres, so that only two remained. They almost had him backed into a tree. 

            "I'm here!" she called out to him, cutting one of the immortals as it turned away from her sword. This ogre was stronger and more agile than the other one, and it punched her in the chest as it swung its rough mace towards her face. The punch took the breath out of her and she tried to duck out of the way of the deadly weapon's path, but she wasn't fast enough. 

            The sharp pain stunned her, and she knew one of the mace's spikes had reached her when a warm wetness trailed down the side of her face. Blood. 

            She grit her teeth against the pain and assailed the ogre with lighting-fast thrusts, overwhelming it. After it dropped its mace, its arm bearing a wide gash, Kel pressed her advantage and killed it. 

            She stood over it, gasping as she tried to recover from the effort of winning. 

            "Mindelan," a voice rasped behind her. 'Joren.' 

            Kel turned around and saw him leaning against the tree, clutching his left arm. The last ogre lay dead at his feet. He looked ready to collapse.

            She hurried to him, and as he fell towards her, she cried out his name. 

*                       *                       *

            "Wake up, Joren," Kel murmured, pressing the back of her hand to his sweat-beaded forehead. He groaned but didn't rouse. 

            She bit her lip, worried. It had been a whole day already, and he still hadn't progressed further than muttering a few words to her. She had no knowledge of healing, but she did know that it shouldn't take this long for him to begin recovering. In addition to that, they had no healing balm, having forgotten to buy more after leaving Oakpost. That was why she had saddled up the horses this morning and started searching for help. All the towns on the map were too far away and Joren needed a healer now. 

            And to make matters even worse than they already were, the climate in this region of Tortall had gradually but undeniably turned cold. Kel hadn't known that it could be so cold in September. 

            She looked over again at Joren, who was slumped against Arbor's neck. Did he look even paler than before? She unfastened the one blanket she had kept around herself for warmth and draped it over his shoulders before turning and studying the terrain around them.

            The ground was rocky, and in the near distance mountains rose against the sky. It would soon be dusk, and they would have to camp somewhere safe. But there were barely any trees now. She couldn't think of any shelter for them, unless those mountains were full of caves and hospitable inhabitants. 

            A chilly wind blew and made her wound throb. She hoped it wasn't infected, because she hadn't been able to do anything but wash it in water and try to keep it clean without the protection of bandages. 

            Kel shook her head, cursing her inability to think ahead and have enough supplies for the journey. She had studied things like this with Raoul; she knew how important planning ahead was. And because of her lack of foresight, she and Joren were stuck in a miserable situation. 

            She set her jaw determinedly, ignoring the throbbing and the cold as best she could, and urged Peachblossom on, pulling Arbor and his rider behind her. 

            The sun set, and still no shelter. She didn't want to keep riding though, because the horses couldn't pick their way along this uneven ground in the darkness. They would just have to camp out in the open, and she would simply need to be more alert tonight. 'Easier said than done,' she thought to herself. 

            "I hope this doesn't hurt," Kel thought aloud as she pondered the best way to get Joren off Arbor without dropping him to the ground. It had been easier to mount, because he had been slightly conscious then. As if he sensed her worry, Arbor crouched to the ground, effectively solving the problem. She pulled Joren off the saddle and slid him to the bedroll she had readied on the ground. 

            Arbor nickered softly as she stroked his neck for a moment, silently thanking Daine for the magical influence she had made on the palace horses. 

            After feeding the horses and arranging the blankets more snugly around Joren, she took out her spyglass and readied herself for a sleepless night. 

*                       *                       *

            "What is your business here?" 

            "I told you already, we're looking for a healer. He was injured when ogres attacked our campsite." 

            "A knight of Tortall with no healing supplies? That's a likely story."

            "It may not be _likely_, but it's the truth. See for yourself, he's hurt." 

            "Don't try to trick us into coming closer. How do we know you're not laying a trap?"

            "A knight does not lay traps!"

            The biting voices penetrated the thick fog in his head. Joren fought his way toward consciousness, hearing the impatience and urgency in that last voice. What had gotten Mindelan so worked up, that she actually shouted at someone? As he blinked his eyes open, the bruises and other injuries on his body made themselves known with force. 'Oh yes, now I remember.' 

            It took him a second to accustom himself to the pain, and after he did the voices grew louder. 

            "Please, I swear to you that I am not trying to trick you. I am telling the truth. He needs a healer now!" 

            "If we take him to our healers, what will we do with you? You might try to attack us while we're unawares and sheltering your friend."

            "Then lock me up, I don't care. Just help him before he dies." 

            "Fine. Bind her hands and feet." 

            Joren groaned and sat up, the sound and movement making the other people turn and stare at him. He struggled to free his arms from all the layers on top of him. 'Who put all these damn blankets on me?'

            "Joren!" Kel exclaimed, trying to go to him even though two men were holding her arms. 

            "Joren?" The man who had been arguing with Kel looked at him sharply. "Joren of Stone Mountain?" 

            Kel was stunned. "What? How do you know-" 

            "Yes, it's me, Adelphis. You can release her," Joren said, waving his hand in the general direction of Kel. His head hurt too much to turn and look at her. 

            Adelphis smiled broadly at his friend, but just as quickly frowned with worry. "You are truly hurt. Hold still, I'll help." 

            Joren obediently laid back as Adelphis approached and laid his hands on his chest. A cool, familiar sensation washed over him, and he could feel his wounds healing and his bruises fading. 

            "Thank you," Joren said, rising to his feet slowly. 

            "You're a healer," Kel said accusingly as she looked at Adelphis. "You could have helped instead of arguing with me." Then she turned to look at Joren. "And how do you know him?" 

            Joren ignored her question and raised a single eyebrow at Adelphis. "I said you could release her now." 

            Adelphis shrugged and motioned for his two soldiers to let go of Kel's arms. "It amused me." 

            "You always had odd tastes," Joren replied. He glanced around and saw their two horses pawing at the ground with anger. "Adelphis, release the horses too, if you please." 

            He motioned again, and the men who were trying to subdue the warhorses gladly relinquished their duty. Adelphis sighed, his dark eyes dancing. "It's a pity. Those are beautiful mounts. That roan one, especially. He has spirit." 

            Peachblossom snorted in warning and Kel quickly came to his side, soothing him as she glared at Adelphis. Apparently, she had finally found someone who irritated her more than Joren. 

            "Now that that's done, let's hurry back," Adelphis announced, striding to his own horse that one of his men held waiting. "I haven't even eaten yet, and an empty stomach gives me a bad temper." 

            He quickly mounted and led the men towards the mountains. Kel and Joren rode at the end of the group. 

            "Are you all right?" she asked, looking him over for any signs of lasting injury.

            Joren glanced at her, a bit surprised that she looked so concerned. "I'm fine now. Adelphis is a skilled healer." 

            "Who is he? Where are we going?" she wanted to know. "And most importantly, how do you know each other?" 

            He shook his head. "You need to listen more carefully, Lump. I told you already, I've been here before. What did you think I was doing when I left Corus? Relaxing at Stone Mountain?" 

            "So instead of returning home you joined a group of bandits?" she muttered to herself.

            "Hardly. Adelphis is the leader of a nomadic tribe. I traveled with them for a time." He stopped at that simple explanation.

            "You're not telling me everything," she pointed out, glancing at his strong profile. 

            He remained silent. 

*                       *                       *

            "Where are they?" Neal demanded, crowding close to the parchment as more words scrawled across it. 

            Sir Gareth sighed in exasperation and tried to ignore the jostling of the knights around him. Now that September had come, the knights had begun returning to the palace. Kel's friends were among them, and they had heard of her and Joren's quest. Since then, they had been keeping watch over the scroll, waiting for more developments. 

            "Sir Cleon, if you'd kindly move out of the way, I'll tell you what it says." The big redhead colored and obliged, pulling Neal out of the way also. 

            Gareth read the words carefully before clearing his throat. "It says that Kelandry and Joren have avoided the first signs of the coming evil, and have found help in the form of noble mountain warriors." He frowned to himself. "That's odd. I didn't know there were mountain warriors in that region." 

            Neal shrugged. "Hardly anyone's been that far north. I'm simply relieved that they avoided the evil." Cleon nodded.

            Gareth sighed. "Avoided the first signs of evil, Sir Nealan," he clarified. "I'm afraid that they are nowhere near safe. The quest is long from over." 

**A/N:** Review and make an author feel much appreciated!****


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